I am sorry I do not know all of the terms for this site yet but I felt like sharing this. Earlier in the semester we had one of the police officers from campus come into talk about sexual assault. This was one of the hardest classes I have ever had. She was also a survivor, and I made a great connection. Here is the email I sent to her after class.

I want to thank you for everything you said today in class. It was really nice to have you come in. You said some truly moving things, and I am very happy you opened up. Your frankness really inspired me. I do a lot of presentations for different classes on this campus, and I try to be open with the students, much like you have. I was going to speak up today in class but, this class was different. I can not stand that look you get when you tell people. When I do a presentation to a class I rarely know people, nor will I normally ever see them again. Today was different. This class was a group of my peers, and many of them I am close with. I am a survivor, I have fought long and hard to be able to accept that. I refused to be a victim. I was sexually assaulted twice in my life. I thankfully have blacked out the first one, as I was very young. I only remember little pieces of things that have lead me to believe that I was. The second time was over the course of 3-5 years. From the age of 11-14 I was molested
anywhere from 1-3 times a day. From 14-17 the two boys had moved away, but I still saw them on a regular basis. The worst part about the entire thing was I will never have that touching experience loosing my virginity to someone I truely care about. I can't reminisce with people about loosing mine. Mine was ripped away by a stupid mistake. I have had my struggles with this and I have delt with most of my issues. I still can not look at the two boys with I see them. The absolute worst part is they do not see what this issue is. They pretend that nothing is wrong, or like it never happened and can't understand why I do not want to talk to them. Another thing that is hard for me to handle is the look on peoples faces and reactions when I talk about sex with people, and being in a fraternity that comes up a lot. I fall into the catagory of people who become promiscious. I have always felt that if you have more partners then it looses the glamour and value about it. Does that make sense? If 100 people have had sex with me, then that first time does not mean as much compared to if I had only 4 partners. I carry my scars with pride, and I know myself now. I live with the scars every day. I have developed a shell. I come off highly narasistic and cocky, truefully who could love damaged goods? So I have to love myself enough for two people. Also what you said about self esteem struck a cord with me as well. I have do not have nearly as much as I lead people to believe. I have attempted suicide twice in my life, unfortunatly instead of being wake up calls for myself they lead to a long term addiction to self mutilation and pain. Some times the emotional pain of keeping up this stupid fucking persona gets too hard. Sometimes the pain is so intense that the only thing I can do is cause physical pain to redirect my mind. I went almost 2 and a half years with out cutting. I slipped up a month ago due to some issues I was having with my chapter, as well as school stress. Every aspect of my life seemed to be telling me I was not good enough to do what I was being told. I went for a walk around campus at 2:30am, I put in my iPod and sliced my wrist open using my fingernail. The worst part about that was the scar. It is a huge red glaring mark of my lack of self control. Unlike the previous scars it still there, glarring at me. A constant reminder of a failure. All of these issues stem from my experiences in my childhood, I know this. I am a social worker and have been trained intensly on all of these issues, but that does not make it better. I am doing much better now, but I still have a hard time opening up to people that I know. I could stand in front of a class in DPC 100 and give them intimate details about my molestation, and my suicide attempts and it would not phase me. But sitting in a room with what should be 25 of my closest friends, durring chapter meeting, opening up was the hardest experience of my life. Another large issue that stems from my abuse, is an inablility to talk to males. I struggle with this everyday. The more authoratative the worse it gets. I joined a fraternity as a challenge to myself, sort of a way to force myself to interact with males. It has done wonders for me, but it is still hard, especially when they do things that trigger me. Of course I can not blame them, they do not know my triggers, but when I am told I failed at something, or when I feel like I am being blown off it kills me. Or when someone touches my back.
There are days where I wish one of my attempts had been successful, but then there are days that I do not even think about it. Other days the only way I can get out of bed is the thought of helping someone, by using my past if I could help one person, that is enough to get my through the day most days. Being a survivor sucks, but I do it. I wish to this day that it never happened, but I know I would not be the person I am today. With out going through what I did I would not be me. I would be some one completely different, and I do not think I could help people like I do. My biggest wish is that I could tell my mother, but I know I can't. It would kill her. It was hard enough telling her I was gay. The last thing I need is having someone imply I am gay because of what happened. I struggled with that on my own for almost 10 years, I do not need people to bring that back up to me. I am happy with who I am now, I have my bad days but I also have good days. I am not always comfortable in my own skin, but I am now more often comfortable then not. I constantly have to battle my fears of rejection in every aspect of my life, the same way I have to constantly be on guard against my fear of failure. When I fail, all I can think about is if I could not protect myself how can I ever expect myself to do anything right. There are nights where I am convinced I am just a royally fucked up kid, who can't do anything right. This is why I get so involved in everything. On one hand if I fail at something I succeed at at more things, but also I try to stay so busy that way I do not have time to think about what happened. I do fine when I do not think about what happened. Its when it is brought up, or something triggers me that I fall back into this state of mind. I am no longer suicidal, nor do I have any severe suicidal ideations so do not worry about that. I am a very strong person, and I refuse to let something as silly as being molested end my life this early.

I am laying here in the dark, trying to stop crying so I can put on my stupid fucking happy face, so I can go outside and smoke a cig, but I can't do it. I am sick of hiding in the dark, but I can not handle that fucking obnoxious look of pity. I am not a broken child, I wish people would not look at me like I am. Its that one look that cuts me so deep. That is why I do not like opening up. Do not tell me your sorry. What the fuck are you sorry for? I mean really you were not the little prick who shoved his dick in my ass. Or god forbid they tell me its going to be ok. No its not ok, I am not ok. But I am alright with not being ok. There is nothing worse then hearing these things. I think these are worse then hearing any of the other remarks you brought up in class. I can handle people shifting their uncomfort about it to blaming me. Thats fine, that I can handle. Its the fucking pity I cant. That and being touched. I despise being touched after I tell some one. After I finish telling someone about how dirty I feel, or how used, broken and hurt I feel. The last thing I want to do is be touched. No one ever understands this. I even open up my presentations when I am about to tell a group about this with please do not touch me for any reason. I still get at least one hug. I fucking hate it. Touching me after I put all my dirty baggage out is like touching my soul. I would say it was like touching my sexually, but thats not hard to do. I can handle sexual intimacy, the more the better. Its being touched especially my back by people who I am not close with bugs me out.

And here is the amazing response I received. She is one of my new heros.

I have to say that I actually admire you for the choices you have made in your life to make you stronger. Pardon the expression, I just don't have the balls to do that...You are right. The last thing I cannot stand is a pity party. I don't want pity, but I find myself starving for love, that is something that I have never gotten enough of in my life. I have never felt charished by anyone. I too hate failure. I am a person who needs to set goals and once achieved I need to set more. When I don't have goals, I feel lworthless and shitty. I find myself over achieving and at times it is exhausting. I too have a narcassitic way about myself. I cannot be intimate with anyone unless I am emotionally attached to them. But I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach of constant hurt....I don't even know where it comes from..I too cannot talk about my experiences with sexual assault to peers and family. Frankly, I think they know something has happened to me, but they don't want to hear it. You see I have the persona of having my shit together, especially in my family. They all admire me and God forbid if they found out that I had a weakness or a fault. My substance abuse is spending money beyond my control. It has been a nightmare for me. *private info removed*....I can't say that sexual assault has not effected me, it has terribly and I trust few people. I am glad I too could open to you. You are not alone my friend. Please, talk to me anytime. And I promise, No hugs..

There I just wanted to share this amazing experience that I had.